Snowbird
by 93Mika
Summary: They always complained about how cold it got down in that grey basement, but she could never understand what they meant. She had no sense of what warmth or coldness felt like, not when she couldn't even feel bullets against her skin. Not until she met Mikhail.


**Notes:**

This is a oneshot that had been going around my mind since the long awaiting episode 16 aired. Red Daughter turned out to be completely different from what I and many others expected. I found myself getting so protective of her and very heartbroken over how people are just feeding her lies to do their dirty work for them and Lex went as far as taking away the only thing she loved in this world. A boy named Mikhail. This piece is about how important Mikhail and his family were to Red Daughter while surrounded by only strict military men.

**Snowbird**

They always complained about how cold it got down in that grey basement, but she could never understand what they meant. She had no sense of what warmth or coldness felt like, not when she couldn't even feel bullets against her skin.

Not until she met Mikhail.

* * *

It had been over three months since she had come to be.

Three months wondering who she really was without any success.

Three months remembering only one name. Alex. A name no one knew what or who it was meant to be.

She was surrounded by strict, disciplined men. Everything worked through a chain of commands, a well-oiled machine. No falters or diversions ever allowed. Like a clock. Soldiers training, changing shifts and orders carried out accordingly.

If anything was unfitting in this firm system, it was her.

She had no name, no past and no apparent purpose, yet they cared enough to give her shelter and food. Their watchful eyes followed her every move. Something that didn't really bother her. She imagined that this was their way of looking after her, what with her abilities being so inhumanly powerful and deathly. She could only return the favor by learning how to communicate with them through their own language and stay out of their way. She didn't know what else to do. She had no preference.

Snowbird. That was what they called her. She didn't know why, but she assumed it was because of her ability to fly as birds could. The only harmless ability among her other fetal ones.

After killing several men in the field with the unexpected inferno unleashed from her eyes, she felt beyond ashamed and indebted to them. They had tried to show her how to use her powers and instead, she had hurt them.

Sleeping was impossible that night and somehow unnecessary. The yellow sun, they said, it fueled her powers. She didn't even need food to replenish her.

She spent hours pacing at the old, small room of hers with only a bed, a single lamp, and a nightstand. The walls that were once covered with light blue wallpapers were now dull grey and scratched, almost falling apart. She had to wonder, who had been the previous owner of this place.

She was unsettled and guilt-ridden. Unable to calm herself. What would Alex think? Who was he to her? Why did she only remember his name or care? How could she make this right?

That was when she heard the sounds. Commotion. Glass shattering and cries muffled by yells. She knew the source had to be from beyond the cement building. Somewhere out in the white lands filled with tall, evergreen trees. Her heart raced.

A single word kept echoing in her ears. A child's voice. She didn't know the meaning, but it was painful and so desperate that it made her heart clench.

Snatching the dictionary on her nightstand, she flipped through the pages in a rush and sought out the word.

'Help!'

Images of men fallen and burned around her in the forest crossed her mind. Her heart sank.

There was no hesitation in her actions then. Her mind and heart were set. Bolting out of the door and shooting into the sky, she didn't even slow down when they ordered her to stop.

It wasn't long before she found the cabin that was the focal point of all the noises. With her enhanced vision, she saw a little boy being roughly handled by a man and two other men looking through drawers. A woman laid unconscious on the other side. The mother of the boy no doubt.

She saw red as she dove down through the roof.

There was little control over her actions. She was fearful for the boy and his mother and when her eyes fell on the child's terrified face, his eyes wide and tears staining his cheeks, her eyes flared on their own accord in response to the anger boiling in her veins.

Two of the men perished within the second. She was faster and much stronger than them. They never stood a chance against her.

The third one was still holding the boy harshly by the shoulder. Terror flashed across his face as he had witnessed the falling of his partners. She saw how the rifle in his arm shook. He cowardly shoved the little boy to his front, using him as a shield and backing away. He then started speaking, words trembling. She barely understood, but as soon as he pointed the barrel of his gun to the boy's head, she knew exactly what he meant and more than that, she felt it.

It felt cold. Cold, cold fear.

She didn't show him any mercy as she stomped fast forward, her boots making holes in the wooden boards beneath with her strength. She grabbed the gun and twisted it, bending the steel and breaking the man's hand in the process. He yelped in agony and staggered back.

She then reached for the shivering child as gently as she could, turning away and protecting him with her body. Words escaped her mind. She wasn't sure what she could say to calm the fragile little human in her arms.

The boy looked up at her with his hazel eyes filled with wonder rather than fear this time. He then shouted as he pointed at something behind her.

She looked behind her just as the last man still standing, stabbed her in the back with a dagger in his only working hand. But the blade broke at the contact with her impenetrable skin. The man looked in disbelief at the useless hilt in his hand and she didn't give him a second chance to retaliate as she punched him the chest. His body flew all across the room and fell down in a hip by the wall.

She couldn't hear his heartbeats anymore.

Her ears were ringing and adrenaline coursed through her body, keeping her alarmed. She heard sounds, cracks, and voices. Footsteps. Engines roaring. With a pounding heart and eyes glued to the front door, she suddenly felt the whole cabin was going to be under attack. She had to protect the child. She could. She was invincible. Lifting him up into her arms, she took him to a corner next to the sofa and crouched over him facing the wall, thus any attacker that would come through the door, wouldn't be able to see or harm him. She couldn't let anything happen to him. Or his mother. She knew the mother was still alive, could hear her heart beating. Looking down at the boy, he was quiet and much less tense. He wasn't afraid of her.

The suspense, the fear. It felt cold. She could even taste it as the door turned open.

But then it turned out to be Alex. He had finally found her.

* * *

Mikhail loved playing soccer. That was one of the first things she found out about him after she asked him about the ball he kept in the cottage. She didn't know what soccer meant, so Mikhail decided to show her instead.

He took her outside. It was midday and his mother was working on the grounds near their house. The woman had recovered soon after the accident. She had been a little suspicious and reluctant to leave his only son with an alien at first, but Mikhail changed her mind. He said that she was his Hero.

Hero.

Such a big word.

Things felt right in the world at last. For once she wasn't plagued by the missing pieces in herself. Her identity issue. Alex was helping and she was learning more every day. For once she tried to let it go and trust him to tell her what she needed to know at the right time. He had promised her.

Therefore she tried to spend as much time as her intensive training allowed, with Mikhail. Talking to him was a great practice to improve her Russian, Alex had said, and through Mikhail, she found that this world, Earth, looked very different as everything did through the eyes of a child.

Mikhail guided her a distance away from their cottage where there existed a small clear field covered with dead leaves. He stepped a few paces away from her before stopping and putting down the ball. She saw his eyes twinkling and a wide smile covering his face.

He kicked at the ball lightly. It rolled fast on the ground and bounced against her feet where she was standing still in confusion. He asked her to pass it on and she bent down to pick it up with her hands. Mikhail burst into laughter.

His laugh rang through the quiet forest joyfully. She couldn't help but join him in doing so. It was the first time she had ever laughed.

Their laughs continued for a while and that was when she felt it for the first time.

It felt warm.

Happiness felt warm.

* * *

Friend.

Alex had said that he had been his friend upon meeting him first. It was a word she had come across very often in the books he sent to her, but she found that the descriptions in them and her relationship with Alex didn't agree much with each other. She couldn't decide which were right or wrong.

Mikhail told her about how lonely it got with only him at home and his mother working until late hours every day. He had said that he had no friends to play with. She sympathized with him. She too had no one to talk to and to spend time with. Alex's visits were all very short and he seemed to be more of a mentor than an equal.

With all the knowledge she had found in these five months, she liked to think that she was Mikhail's friend just as she knew him as her friend.

She listened to Mikhail talking about his favorite soccer player at length. He had pictures of him pinned to the wall above his bed and spent hours mimicking his crafty moves in fooling the opponents. He couldn't master them yet, however, his relentless determination inspired her. She sat outside, watching him practicing even when the weather got bad or when he grew very tired. He told her that he dreamed of playing in the World Cup and winning one day. It was beautiful to watch the way his face glowed as he revealed his grand fantasy to her. She wished she had a dream that big.

It was so humbling to know this struggling family. She tried once to help around the house, but her hands were more used to smashing tanks and punching walls than handling delicate objects. Mikhail's mother didn't appreciate it when two of the dishes turned into pieces in her hands. She was a proud woman and not once asked for her or anyone's help. She was in awe of this woman. It taught her that strength had many shapes and profound meanings.

While her powers were plainly superficial, Mikhail had such a strong will, he wanted to change things for himself and his mother despite knowing the obstacles. And his mother had shouldered all the responsibilities and hardships of life to provide for their family in the absence of the other parent.

Looking at them, she realized that all her powers meant nothing against them. It made her want to become even stronger. She wanted to become so powerful so that she could protect and help others like Mikhail and his mother. She wanted to turn into that hero the boy saw her as one so fondly. She asked Alex over and over to show her how she could help to make things better in the world, especially after the Kryptonite incident when he told her the truth of her origins and her sister's betrayal. Alex took her to America explained why the world was the way it was. Greed, money and power, it had corrupted the people of this planet and even her sister. She wished to change that.

Once Mikhail's mother had business in the town and had to stay the night away but couldn't take him with herself. She offered to watch over him in her place. On a rare occasion, that night the sky was clear and the stars were countless. Mikhail taught her the name of the stars he knew. They stared at the constellations hours after his bedtime and when he finally went to sleep, she remained awake until dawn, watching as every star passed the zenith and wondered. Alex said she was from Krypton. A planet that didn't exist anymore. Were the remains of her true home still out there somewhere, orbiting one of those blinking stars? Was there anyone waiting for her somewhere or had they all perished or forgotten her as she had them? Why would her only family abandon her like that? So many questions and yet no answers.

Something felt wrong.

* * *

Things were going better than ever until that moment when it all fell apart. It was as if she wasn't made to keep the things she most loved in her life.

She was in her room, reading a book when she heard the loud explosion and a cry, and not from just anywhere, but from the one place, she always kept an ear on. Her whole body stiffened with fear.

Very much like that night, she took off to the skies, getting herself to the cottage that had turned into her second home – no, her first home, because the military base was far from anything a home stood for.

The smokes were visible from far away, but she was in denial. She wasn't breathing anymore as her boots touched the scorched ground, in the middle of what was left of Mikhail's home.

The singed wooden logs that were once the walls, sizzled as she made her way through the pile of rubble in search of her friend. Her family. She couldn't sense him anymore. Instead of the soft aroma of pines and tea, her lungs were filled with bitter smokes. It was terrifying. So terrifying.

She felt cold again.

So, so cold.

Colder than ever.

Her steps faltered when her eyes landed on a very familiar object. Mikhail's soccer ball. Or rather what was left of it. Somewhere deep down she had known what had really happened even before reaching the place, but seeing Mikhail's most beloved item torn to shreds somehow made it more real to her at last.

Her heart skipped many beats as memories flooded her mind. Her very new and dear memories.

With trembling hands, she picked up the destroyed piece, staring at it with chocked breaths.

With a sob, her legs gave away as she felt her entire world shattering. Her heart was broken. It was as though she had lost everything and it was ripping her apart from inside. She had never felt this weak.

She cried loud into the sky from the pain of it. There was no end to her tears. It took all of her not to turn her surroundings into dust.

She had never truly known what pain felt like until that moment. All those books, stories and recounts, they never truly had captured the true feeling of loss. Not even the Kryptonite had hurt her this much.

It was crushing.

And it burnt.

She had failed to protect him. She was no hero and she no longer had a friend or family.

Gradually the tears stopped yet the weight on her shoulders felt even heavier. Heavier than any weight she had lifted. She no longer was able to feel and it was the worst sensation of all. There was a hole in her chest where her heart was supposed to be. She wanted to see Mikhail playing and smiling, to hear him laugh one more time, but it was all gone now. Without any warning, taken from her. Who was behind this cruelty and for what reason? What had she done to deserve this?

Consumed by grief, a new feeling emerged.

She craved revenge.

And it felt freezing cold.

So cold that it turned her heart into ice.

The torn fabric in her hands crumbled under her twisting fingers as she curled them into a fist.

More than any time before, she was lost and incapable of connecting. Detached from everything, she never belonged here anyway. She was a wrong puzzle piece in the scheme of the world around her. A sister that had rejected her and a race long gone in the cosmos. She was so tired of seeking out her right place. She only wanted back the one friend she had found for herself. The logical part of her knew that it was impossible now, however, she at least wanted justice for Mikhail. No matter what. She despised this dark hollow inside that was sucking her deep like a quicksand.

She was a Snowbird.

She wanted to feel warm again. She needed to.

Could she ever again?


End file.
